Amanojaku
by TSOHG A MA I
Summary: Because the Uchiha were not the only clan with a curse. And the Senju were not their only enemies...nor were they the worst. Perhaps some things are better off erased from history... WARNING: Graphic depiction of gore, violence, and taboo subject matter. Reader discretion advised. #WarringClansEra#CanonDivergent#OCs
1. PILOT

_Edited 6/4/18_

 **AMANOJAKU**

* * *

On a winding mountain trail in the middle of summer in the Land of Fire, a sweet, cheerful voice could be heard singing a paradoxically macabre tune over the waning and waxing cries of the cicadas. The pale haired young woman adjusted her grip on the little boy clinging to her back, mindful of his numerous injuries. His coloring, in contrast to the woman's wispy white locks, consisted of a thick head of inky black snarls. And though they each had equally fair complexions, while the boy's eyes were the darkest of shades, the woman's were a startling crimson red.

" _And all the corpses dance to their joyful tune of death_ —"

"Don't you have any songs that aren't completely… _horrible_?" the boy complained flatly.

Startled, hearing from him for the first time since the start of their journey, the woman's voice tapered off abruptly. Then she smiled sheepishly, the sharp points of her serrated teeth peaking out from behind her lips.

"Sorry, Uchiha-kun…" she answered, her voice soft and gentle as she spoke to the child. "What sort of song would you like to hear instead?"

With a sigh, the boy shrugged, and winced as the movement jostled his bruised and broken body. "I don't really care. Anything but _that one_ …" He'd been listening to her clan's ghoulish ballads for what felt like days now. "Sing something girly. Romantic, maybe?"

"Ah, well…" his companion remarked in that same apologetic tone and explained, "most people find my clan's idea of romance a little strange…" She giggled and recalled, "Take my mother, for example—she was a very fierce and passionate woman. She was always so lively and put a hundred percent into everything she did. My sister takes after her a lot. That's something I really admire about them both, but it's unfortunate that she passed on her jealous nature as well…" She continued with a hint of strange humor that didn't reach her eyes, "When I was a little girl, she always told me she loved my father _very_ much—so much, in fact, that when my sister and I were still growing in her belly…she _devoured_ him, piece by piece."

"T-that's awful!" the boy exclaimed affrontedly, his nose crinkled with disgust. "I…I know the Hitokujaki clan devours the flesh of their enemies, but to even turn on their own…that's _repulsive_ , Shikyo."

"Ah…yes, I know that," the woman, Shikyo sighed, sounding resigned. "But to my clan, my mother's story is the height of romance." She changed tracts tentatively, "Try to understand…she ate her lover so that they could become one—so that they would never be apart, and no one could ever take him away from her. It's quite beautiful, if you think about it…"

"That's still the _worst_ love story I've _ever_ heard," the young Uchiha insisted firmly.

Laughing a little sadly, Shikyo agreed, "It _is_ quite horrible, isn't it…" She sighed, "The clan has changed a lot since the last priestess died and left me in charge. Mother tried to keep Onee-san in check, but…well, I'm sure you can guess what happened. She _does_ take after her…"

"Such atrocities shouldn't exist in this world… You're the only _sane_ one in your whole cursed demon clan," the boy grumbled darkly.

Still giggling, Shikyo mused, "Oh, I wouldn't say that…" She trailed off with a sigh, "But you're not wrong, Uchiha-kun. You've seen my sister for yourself. She's a monster. My clan's ambitions have gone too far this time, and I agree…we've become much too dangerous to exist. Perhaps…we should have never existed at all." Smiling a little sadly, she pointed out, "I made you a promise, after all. And I intend to keep it." At his contemplative silence, she asked, "Are you excited to be going home, Uchiha-kun?"

After another thoughtful silence, he answered, "Ichijo…my name is Ichijo."

With an exaggerated gasp, Shikyo exclaimed happily, "Ichijo-kun! What a strong, handsome name! I'm so glad you finally told it to me!"

Blushing hotly, Ichijo scoffed, "Don't get so excited, stupid… It's just a name."

"Ah, but it's a good name for such a brave shinobi like you." She beamed at him over her shoulder. "I'm happy I get to know it now. I want to say it over and over again—" In a sing-song voice, she began chanting just that, "Ichijo-kun, Ichijo-kun, Ichijo-kuuun—"

"Stop it already!" he protested, burying his face in the crook of her neck to hide the vivid redness of his cheeks. "I'm not strong, or handsome, or brave… I…" he faltered out, suddenly close to tears, "I'm just a failure who got captured… If-if you hadn't helped me escape, I'd be…I'd be…"

"Shh…don't be sad, Ichijo-kun. Shikyo is here. I'll protect you," she vowed earnestly. "I made a promise, after all. I won't let the sharingan fall into the hands of the Hitokujaki. I'll destroy them all before that happens." She began to sing in her soft cloying voice,

" _Don't cry little one, I am here._

 _I'll make all your enemies disappear._

 _No need to fear when I am near,_

 _I'll take your rainy sky, wipe it clear._

 _Don't cry little one, don't make a sound._

 _Your enemies will bleed, when I come 'round._

 _No one will hurt you where I am found,_

 _I'll rip those fiends apart, drive them into the ground…_ "

And so on it went, and Ichijo stopped sniffling, listening intently as each verse grew more and more gruesome with promises of violence, death, and retribution upon the 'Little One's enemies. It would almost be comical if Shikyo's countenance didn't speak of the complete and utter conviction behind her words; she clearly meant every one of them. She was a very sincere person, Ichijo had discovered in their short acquaintance with each other, even if she _was_ from a clan of insane cannibals… She had done nothing but treat him kindly and gently since they had met, even when he rudely snapped at her in distrust, or called her names. Despite her (literally) bloodthirsty family…Ichijo had found her to be a genuinely goodhearted kunoichi.

One who would betray her own clan to protect others from their evil…

Ichijo contemplated thoughtfully to himself, if their positions had been reversed, would he have enough courage to do the same…?

He wondered.

"You're not like the others," he finally said, interrupting her soft singing once again. "How…how can you be one of them, but be so…so…different?"

"Hm? Oh, I wouldn't say I'm so different from the rest…" she hummed thoughtfully. At Ichijo's irritated noise, however, she huffed a laugh. "Okay, maybe a little… It's strange but, would you believe me if I said I remembered living a whole other life before this one?"

"Another life…?" Ichijo echoed incredulously.

"That's right." Shikyo nodded, and her innate sincerity was the only reason Ichijo even gave a thought to her bizarre claim. "Compared to this life, my last one was very peaceful. I never needed to fight. Shinobi were no longer needed. And people who ate other people were locked away. Technology was very advanced, everyone had electricity—not just in the cities—and information was shared with everyone all over the world."

"That sounds…impossible," Ichijo remarked quietly.

"Right?" Shikyo laughed at herself. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm just crazy… But I can't just ignore it. When my sister brought you home, I said to myself, 'Shikyo, enough is enough. What would your first family think of you if they saw you now?'" She shook her head slowly with a morose sigh. "They'd be horrified, that's what they would think. And my little brother, he'd scream, and run away… I'd be a monster to them."

Frowning to himself, Ichijo admitted, "I don't think you're a monster…"

She grinned widely at him with her shark-like teeth and exclaimed, "Ah, that makes me happy! I'm so relieved!" More subdued, she added, "You know, you look like him—my little brother. You resemble him very closely. When I first saw you, I thought my spirit had leaked out of my ears, and I had become a ghost!" She laughed softly. "But I'm glad, just the same. You reminded me, you know…of who I once was. I…" she faltered, "…I would like to become like that girl again. Even if it's just every now and again… Is that crazy, do you think?"

Ichijo's fists tightened where he gripped her yukata, and finally replied decisively, "I don't think you're crazy."

"Ah, Ichijo-kun…truly, you're a kind person." She smiled self-deprecatingly. "You don't have to tell lies to make me feel better."

"I'm _not_ —" he began, but trailed off with a shake of his head and sighed, "Just forget it…"

"Hey, you sound a little tuckered-out, Ichijo-kun," Shikyo noted attentively with a concerned look over her shoulder. Then she smiled softly. "Go ahead and rest your eyes. I know a song to help you sleep…"

And she was back at it again.

Surprisingly enough, despite the morbid subject matter all Hitokujaki songs seemed to be comprised of, the creepy lullaby had a sweet, hypnotic tune that had Ichijo's eyes drooping shut against his will. Shikyo had a pretty enough voice, he noted; nicer than some others he'd heard. He could barely remember the songs his mother used to sing to him before she died. He tried to remember her voice, and failed. He wondered if it was really possible to remember a past life… Then again, if he had once lived a life of peace, only to be born again in a world like this one…

Ichijo was glad he didn't remember.

He knew he wouldn't survive such a loss.

* * *

 _The **Amanojaku** (_ _天邪鬼_ _, "Heavenly-Evil-Spirt") is a demon from Japanese Shinto myth.  
I won't say much more, because spoilers, but it's not something you'd want to run into in a dark alley, that's for sure..._

 _It's been a good few years since I've written anything for Naruto. My writing has improved immensely since then. If you're not turned off immediately by the cannibalism (which is becoming something of a common theme in my stories, lately...) I hope you'll stay with me. I promise I don't bite, hahaha..._

 _Okay, yeah, that was a terrible joke. Somebody, kindly shoot me._

 ** _Please let me know what you think!_**

 _—tsohg a ma I_


	2. CHAPTER ONE

**THIS IS A COMPLETELY REWRITTEN VERSION OF THE FIRST CHAPTER**

 **CONSIDER THIS THE REAL—**

 **CHAPTER ONE**

"…Gone?"

"Yes, Akura-sama…" A dejected youth stood on the other side of a wide table, upon which spread a map of Fire Country and its closest neighbors. The barrier between him, and the imposing woman he reported to, brought him no comfort. "we suspect Shikyo-sama took him when…"

"Choose your next words _very_ carefully, Arashi-kun…"

Akura spoke without turning, her black eyes fixed upon the numerous profiles she had pinned to the wall. There were many prominent figures in the Land of Fire, but only a rare few made it to Akura's wall. The two most prominent, and the two at the zenith of her obsession, were the Senju and the Uchiha. To her frustration, it was these clans that gave them the most trouble when it came to gathering intelligence…

And their one prime source of information had just been spirited away.

By one of their own, if Arashi's unfortunate report was to be believed…

"We can't tolerate any untoward accusations towards our high priestess, can we?"

Wisely, the young man chose not to continue this line of speculation and fell silent.

Akura let out a heavy sigh, and asked, "Has there been any word back from the scouting party we sent after her?"

"None…" Arashi answered gravely, but hurried to add, "There is some unrelated news you might find pleasing, however."

"Mmm…?" The woman rolled her head with a sensual stretch and twist of her neck until she felt it crack. Then, finally turning her cold, shark-like eyes on the scout, she purred out, "Tell me something good…"

Arashi suppressed a shiver. He'd married into the Kubinashi clan, and though he loved his wife beyond all natural reason, he could never quite stomach Lady Akura, the clan's newest overlord… And she _was_ an overlord—not a matriarch—make no mistake. He only hoped Shikyo-sama would return soon with some sort of explanation for her treasonous behavior, and perhaps even stand up to her older sister… Anything, so long as he no longer had to report to the monster of a woman. It was a hazard simply being in the same room with her for any longer than half-an-hour.

"Your older brother was greeted by the last border patrol."

"Ahh, Jinrou…" Akura hummed in pleasure, her voice husky and lazy in direct opposition to the calculation in her eyes. "This is _excellent_ news. Well done, Arashi… Tell everyone to prepare a grand welcome for my brother and his outsider slut."

* * *

On a winding mountain trail in the middle of summer in the Land of Fire, a sweet, cheerful voice could be heard singing a paradoxically macabre tune over the waning and waxing cries of the cicadas. The pale haired young woman adjusted her grip on the little boy clinging to her back, mindful of his numerous injuries. His coloring, in contrast to the woman's wispy white locks, consisted of a thick head of inky black snarls.

" _And we all look the same, once they cut off our heads, and that's what it means when they say we are dead—_ "

"Can't you sing any songs that aren't completely _horrible_?" a boy spoke, voice hoarse and groggy.

His head nodded into the young woman's shoulder in time with her steps. She walked with her weight forward, carrying the broken boy on her back. Both his arms and legs were snapped, his collar bone too, and at least one of his shoulders was dislocated. Shikyo was sure he felt pain every time she moved and tried her very best not to jostle him any more than necessary. It's one of the reasons she decided not to run. That, and she also had no idea where she would be running to… For all Shikyo knew, she could be going in the complete opposite direction of where she needed to go.

Thankfully, she had a temporary destination in mind.

"Ah? Uchiha-kun, you're awake! Thank goodness!"

She could practically feel him sneering into her shoulder.

"Don't call me 'kun.' We're not friends, Kubinashi."

"Ah, well… I suppose you're right." Shikyo sighed, feeling dejected.

But she couldn't reasonably argue with him. Her clan had ambushed his squad and taken him prisoner, after all.

"Why do you sound so depressed? You have no right when you've still got two good arms and legs," the boy said, scathing and bad tempered. Then again, Shikyo would be unhappy too if she was in as much pain as he was. "Where are you taking me, woman?"

"Oh, um, my name is Shikyo—nice to meet you. I was planning on taking you back home, actually," Shikyo said, hearing the boy's surprised intake of breath. "I'm really, really sorry about the ambush, and your comrades… My sister can get a little overzealous sometimes. I had no idea she was planning something like this."

"Sister…" After a thoughtful silence, the Uchiha deduced, "So she's the reason the Kubinashi clan has become so active lately? She's your new leader?"

"Oh, um…well…" Shikyo stumbled over her words, feeling a little embarrassed. "Actually, we Kubinashi are traditionally a spiritualistic clan, and as the High Priestess, _I'm_ technically supposed to be the leader…but…er…" She hesitated, running her nervous tongue over a tapered tooth with a tiny chuckle. "I'm terrified of my little sister…"

She felt the boy let out a derisive huff, his voice turning cold.

"So, others must pay, simply because you're a coward?" She could _feel_ him scowling at her. "How disgusting."

"You…you're right." Shikyo sighed, shaking her head. A few locks of sliver hair fell over her eyes. "Which is why I'm trying to take things into my own hands. The clan can't function without the High Priestess, and if I can undo some of the wrongs Akura has done to your clan, that's what I'll do."

"Che! And how do you expect to undo my comrades' deaths!?" the boy demanded. "Can you bring them back to life!?"

"Maybe, if I had their bodies…" Shikyo speculated, surprising him yet again.

"Y-you can do that?"

Shikyo nodded, apologizing when the movement jostled his collarbone.

"Of course. I _am_ the High Priestess, after all. Unfortunately…" She paused, her face grave. "I think I already know what happened to the bodies." She turned her head to regard the boy with a serious glint in her vermillion eyes. "Out of the twelve of you from your platoon, you are the only one with the Uchihas' legendary Sharingan, yes? It's true it can copy any jutsu?"

"… _Yes_ ," the boy hissed through his teeth.

Shikyo let out a sigh of relief.

"That's…good. Good." She sighed again, sounding tired. "If my sister got ahold of the Sharingan, that would be very…let's just say _Very_ _Bad_." With a frown, she continued, "That's probably why they took you alive. They were planning on using _that_ ritual…"

" _What_ ritual," the Uchiha boy asked, his voice forbidding.

Shikyo noted that he sounded much too old for his young age. Then again, that was to be expected for large war-like clans like the Senju and the Uchiha.

"I'm not exactly allowed to talk about it…but these aren't normal circumstances," Shikyo said, almost to herself. "With everything that's happened, you probably deserve to know…"

"Know _what_ ," the boy demanded again.

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, Shikyo asked, "What do you know about us, the Kubinashi clan?"

"Only that you're a bunch of savage cannibals," he bit out.

Shikyo winced at the harsh delivery of his words.

"You're not wrong, but you're not right either…" she said. "The cannibalism represents sacrifice. Clans in the service of a deity, or a spirit, use ritual sacrifice as part of our jutsu. Our clan serves many gods, kami sprits—each requiring different offerings and sacrifices—even youkai, but the most notorious and revered of them all is the Amanojaku…"

" _Amanojaku_?" For the first time, Shikyo thought she heard a twinge of childish fear in his voice. "Like in the story of the Melon Princess?"

"Oh, yes—only, we have a much different version of that story. I'll tell it to you sometime, if you like."

He scoffed.

"A shinobi pays no heed to children's stories," he recited, as if from rote.

"It's not a children's story if it's the truth…" Shikyo said quietly. "But let's not argue. The fact of the matter is that my sister is attempting to use our most well-known—and rarely performed—ritual to absorb the Sharingan. And yes, in case you were wondering, that's the one that includes cannibalism." Face grim, she added, "I'm sure you can guess what happened to your comrades' bodies…"

The boy was dangerously silent.

Then he asked, "How does this ritual work? What does it entail? Tell me everything you know."

Still feeling uncomfortable at sharing clan secrets, Shikyo was reluctant, but resigned. He deserved to know.

"Normally…It's consensual."

" _What?!_ "

"That's right," Shikyo explained. "Kubinashi is made up of a lot of people who defected from their clans, because we're actually quite peaceful, if you can believe it. We're largely self-sufficient, and we only accept missions from those we trust—those which do not invite conflict. Historically, we are neutralists, but we understand the need to consolidate strength." She continued with, "Our Amanojaku ritual enables us to consume our dead, or the dying, and continue to keep their strength in the clan by absorbing it."

She showed the Uchiha her Inuzuka claws and Hoshigaki grin. "My mother consumed both of her husbands when they were wounded in battle. This was when she was pregnant with my sister and me, so the results of the ritual were rather interesting. She said it was to keep them with her forever. It's kind of romantic if you think about it."

"That is the farthest thing from _romance_ I've ever heard of," the Uchiha said, his voice flat with disgust.

"Yes, well…I suppose we all have different ideas about romance. Especially in my clan. Ten people, ten colors, as they say…" Thinking about romance… "Aren't you a little young to understand those sorts of adult things, Uchiha-kun?"

The young Uchiha bristled.

"I have a girlfriend!" he insisted, very avid about the fact.

Shikyo beamed over her shoulder at him.

"Wonderful! I'm sure she'll be happy to have you back home." She paused. "Where exactly _is_ home?"

The boy went silent, then scoffed.

"Like I'll tell you," he huffed. "This could all be some elaborate scheme to find out the location of our stronghold. Why settle for one set of Sharingan when you can have the rest?"

"That's…actually quite ruthless. I like the way you think, Uchiha-kun." Shikyo smiled at him again, approving of his tactical mind. She admired him for that, as she was never well-versed in strategy. "But if I was planning on betraying you, I wouldn't have shared clan secrets with you. And, unlike my sister, I don't care about the Sharingan," She was sure to add, "even though it is quite nice, and I think it makes you look very handsome and impressive."

The boy sputtered for a moment, cheeks turning pink.

"Th-that's…" He stumbled over his words. "That's even _more_ suspicious! You could have told me about the ritual because you're planning on killing me!"

Shikyo huffed, put out by his stubbornness.

"If I was planning on killing you, I would've done it just to avoid carrying you all this way—you're really heavy…" At his outraged look, she gave him a sheepish smile. "Sorry… Anyway, I don't know what to say to get you to trust me. Talk is cheap, so… Is there anything I can _do_ instead?"

The boy considered her carefully.

"Anything?"

Shikyo thought for a moment, and then she nodded. "Yes."

"Become my subordinate," he said, voice commanding. "Help me complete my original mission, and I will trust you, Kubinashi Shikyo." After a hesitant beat, he added, "Though I cannot speak for my clan. It's likely they will kill you, imprison you…or worse."

"Oh…" Shikyo sighed, but much to the boy's confusion, a smile stretched across her lips. "That's okay then. Even if I die, or they lock me up and torture me, at least it gives me an excuse not to talk to my sister, hehe…" Her grin stretched further. "And like I said, the clan can't function without its High Priestess, so subduing Akura won't be too difficult, I imagine. No one much likes her anyway, so they might just throw her onto the field of battle and leave her there. OH!" Another thought hit her. "Or maybe they'll trade her to you for me—like, like—"

"Like a willing _hostage_ ," the Uchiha deduced, a look of possibility crossing his features. "We trade you back, take out the undesirable, and gain an ally in the process…"

"Exactly! You're really smart, Uchiha-kun!"

Cheeks turning pink once again, the boy deigned not to dignify her unnecessary comments with a response.

"So, I agree to become your subordinate for the time being—should I call you Captain Uchiha?"

The boy closed his eyes, completely exasperated.

"Just call me Ichirou-taicho…"

"OH! I _love_ that name!" Shikyo said, entirely too excited. "It almost sounds like my big brother's—his name is Jinrou—he's so big and strong—when we were little, he used to lift me up on one shoulder and Akura on the other and run around—it was like _flying_ —and Akura _hated_ it—aaand I'm off topic again—sorry. What's the mission, Ichirou-taicho?"

If Ichirou's arms weren't broken, he would've already put a goose egg on this woman's empty head by now. He really hoped she would be useful enough to use on his mission…

"I was ordered to deliver a message to the Fuuma clan…and _enforce_ it if necessary."

"Oh, that's not as hard as I was expecting—I know where the Fuuma Clan lives," Shikyo said. At Ichirou's puzzled look, she added, "We've had several defects from the Fuuma Clan join us recently. The new management isn't so great, from what I hear. Sounds like you Uchiha are having some trouble with them too, neeh?"

Clenching his jaw, more irritated than anything, Ichirou said, "They're raiding our supply routes and becoming a nuisance… The Uchiha Clan will not allow such disrespect from an upstart group of bandits who dare to call themselves shinobi!"

"Ah, you sound quite passionate about it—of course, I'll do what I can to assist you and the Uchiha Clan, Taicho." Shikyo grinned at a stone fox that lined the narrow mountain trail. "But first, I think you should meet an old friend of mine."

Ichirou stiffened.

"Old fr—we have no time for such things!" Nor could he afford for anyone else to see him in such a weakened state. They needed to complete the mission as soon as possible and return to the stronghold.

"But, Taicho, your wounds are quite grievous. As you are now, how do you expect to face the Fuuma Clan?" Shikyo gave him a look, "Surely, you didn't expect me to do it all alone?"

"N-no! Of course not," Ichirou was quick to say. "But I have the Sharingan—with your abilities as a barbarian priestess, and my eyes, we should be able to handle those amateur excuses for shinobi. No problem."

" _Barbarian_ priestess…?" Shikyo winced, murmuring the words to herself. She gave herself a little shake to stave off such troublesome thoughts, and continued, "But, Taicho, the Fuuma Clan has lots of giant shuriken and very sharp, pointy things, and deadly traps, and…a shinobi priestess is not entirely suited for such things."

"THEN WHY DID YOU PROMISE TO HELP?!"

Shikyo winced again at his volume, though it was heartening to see the too-young shinobi acting more his age.

"Because I _can_ help," she assured him. "But first, we must summon my friend." At his unhappy expression, Shikyo cast a look further up the trail and said, "We're almost there."

"Wait…summon," Ichirou frowned, "as in _summoning jutsu_?"

"As expected, Ichirou-taicho catches on quick!"

Shikyo beamed at him as they passed beneath a scarlet tori gate and up the stairs to a mid-sized shrine. It looked old, but well-tended, surrounded on all sides by more thick forest, aside from a small stream that wound its way from the front to the back of the square-shaped structure. She set him down on the red painted bridge and took out some more bandages from her pack.

"I'm sorry. You must be in a considerable amount of pain, Taicho, but you're right—we don't have much time," she said as she quickly wrapped his arms in some makeshift sling that felt more like a restraint, even if it reduced the strain on his broken limbs. "The Clan regularly attends this shrine, and I'm sure my little sister will send the others after me soon. I must hurry in preparation for my friend's arrival."

"P-preperation…?" Ichirou grew even more nervous.

Shikyo noticed, letting out a laugh.

"Don't worry—this ritual has nothing to do with consuming flesh."

"What does it have to do with, then? This mysterious ritual?" Ichirou asked suspiciously.

Shikyo opened her mouth to respond but thought better of it. "No time to explain. I'll just show you."

"W-wait just a minute—"

But she was already flying off towards the shrine, leaping clear over the steps, colorless hair whipping behind her in her haste. Though her presence was disconcerting, Ichirou felt ill at ease in her absence. He was wounded and vulnerable, and though he did not fully trust Shikyo Kubinashi, she appeared to be the only ally he had left. For the first time since he'd been captured, he truly grieved for his lost comrades. Since developing his Sharingan early and becoming captain of his platoon, it was not the first time he'd lost someone.

He never thought he'd lose _all of them_.

Despite himself, tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, and his nose felt enflamed, threatening to run. Crying was such an ugly thing, and he hated it. _Hated it_. He wanted revenge and clear-cut lines of black and white. But since meeting Shikyo, it wasn't that easy. It forced him to clear his logical mind and think rationally. It was obvious from what Shikyo had revealed that her clan, much like the Fuuma, were in the midst of a power struggle. And as the captain of an elite squad, Ichirou must analyze the situation and deliver a report of his findings.

He had to think of the clan first.

Something selfish like revenge would have to wait.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the woman landed beside him, her unsettling sharp smile splitting her face in a semblance of innocent mirth. He couldn't tell if it was genuine or not, and if it was, and she simply couldn't help making people uneasy, there was still something eerie about it.

In one hand, she held a bucket, and in the other, a large bag of—

"Rice!" She held up the burlap bag with far too much excitement. "This is a shrine to the god of rice—I often visit to conduct healing rituals—so I must make a fabulous offering to appease them. Though we're short on time, this is unavoidable, so please be patient, Taicho. I promise, you'll be better in no time!"

"The god of…rice…" Ichirou frowned, puzzled.

Though the Uchiha Clan had their own shrine to their patron deity, Minamikano-sama, (often shortened to Naka-sama out of fondness for the fire god) Ichirou had never been particularly devout. Though many said Naka-sama made their fire jutsu stronger in battle than any other clan, Ichirou found himself with a healthy amount of skepticism for anything he couldn't see with his own two Sharingan eyes.

While pounding out the rice, Shikyo sang another song. And this time, Ichirou recognized it.

 _Evening sunset, little sunset red dragonfly…  
Did I dream of being carried on her back that day?_

 _In the mountain's field, we collected the persimmon fruits,  
In a small basket—was it just a mirage?_

 _At fifteen, she became a bride,  
And soon, even letters to her hometown ceased to come._

 _Evening sunset, little sunset red dragonfly  
Has stopped on the tip of my fishing pole…_

He sighed, unable to remember where he'd heard the nostalgic song.

"This is a waste of time…"

But the chilling look Shikyo pegged him with when she looked up from her work was enough to cow him— _him, the great Ichirou!_ —into silence. He'd yet to see her angry from any of the untoward things he'd said to her, and yet it seemed that criticizing her gods was a something of an issue for her. As expected from a priestess, really…

She pounded the rice in the mortar for several more minutes until it reached the consistency of a fine flour for mochi, which she mixed with refined sugar and milk from a coconut. She then wrapped the sticky rice cakes in banana leaves and steamed them in her bucket over boiling water. It was done with an expert level of routine efficiency, with quick hands and quicker wits, lending to Ichirou's assumption that she'd completed this ritual many times before.

In the shrine, Shikyo set out an elaborate spread on the alter table before a great enshrined dais overflowing with leighs of fresh cut flowers from the small garden out back.

"And now, for the finishing touch—"

She removed the sloshing gourd from her hip and poured a generous helping of sake in the cup next to the plate of mochi. Next, she bowed deeply on her knees.

"Inari-sama, please accept this humble offering!"

Ichirou watched on with heavy skepticism he could not disguise on his face.

Shikyo sent him another one of her looks and forced his head down, jostling his already damaged collar bone.

" _Summoning jutsu!_ "

And all at once, the cynic, Ichirou Uchiha, was made a believer.

* * *

Throughout the meal, Ichirou continued to find the inscrutable androgyny of Inari-O-Kami-sama _disturbing_. It was interesting to note that he held this in precedence over the novelty of having a full-spread brunch with a deity sprit, that, yes, this spirit was indeed real, and that there were over-friendly kitsune-women fussing over his rapidly healing wounds.

If he had any less self-control, he might have exploded by now.

And still, over all that, the fact that he could not tell if Inari-sama was a man or a woman perturbed him most of all.

He—she?—had long, scarlet hair, held half up and half down in elaborate style with intricate gilded combs. It, along with his many-layered ceremonial robes, floated around him as if they did not adhere to the rules of gravity. His skin was colored a milky gold, as were his done-up eyes. His lips were painted a dark purple in contrast to the lilac of his feminine garb. And he was smiling at Ichirou as if he knew _exactly_ what he was thinking.

"The answer is both," he said, voice soft yet neither male nor female in pitch.

And that effectively answered two questions.

Chuckling behind his sleeve at Ichirou's consternated thoughts, the deity said to Shikyo, "I like your new friend. He's quite adorable."

Shikyo only smiled and answered with a very diplomatic and unspecific, "Yes."

Ichirou appreciated that.

"As to your situation, I can only give you my sympathies," Inari said, his face smoothing out and his eyes grave. "Know that you have my support and protection in any path you choose, Shikyo-chan. As always, I will listen for your prayers and offer what wisdom I can. And perhaps…that."

Shikyo tilted her head. "Inari-sama? You've already done so much to help us. Healing Ichirou-taicho's wounds was more kindness than I can express our thanks for. We cannot ask for anything else."

They could use all the help they could get in, Ichirou's opinion, and he was not going to protest.

He bristled at the amused look from Inari-sama, his cheeks turning bright red.

"Yes, well, I think it will do nicely. Being out in the world again will do him some good." And Inari-sama pulled a sword from midair.

Shikyo gasped.

"Kogitsunemaru!"

"It has been a while since he's seen the light of day, and yet his blade has not dulled in the slightest." Inari-sama handed the sword not to Shikyo, but to Ichirou. "Here. Take him, and put him to good use, boy."

"T-thank you," Ichirou said, accepting the weapon with wide eyes.

A red tassel hung from the hilt and its sheathe was embossed with blue and gold seal work. An intricately woven cord, meant to hang the sword from one's waist, was threaded round it. And when Ichirou pulled the sword a fraction of the way out, he saw that the expertly forged metal glimmered with a rainbow-like sheen. The god spoke true in that the blade was as sharp as a razor.

The god chuckled once more.

"Don't thank me yet, Ichirou Uchiha." And with those ominous words he turned to Shikyo, who eyed the sword cautiously. "The two of you may rest under the protection of my house tonight. I've raised the barrier, and none who look upon this place with the intent of finding you shall do so."

Shikyo's eyes shined with tears of gratitude.

"Inari-O-Kami-sama!"

"Shikyo-chan!"

And with that, the two shared a heartwarming embrace that made Ichirou want to vomit.

Over Shikyo's shoulder, he saw Inari-sama _smirk_.

"Alright girls, have at 'im."

The kitsune sprites squealed, and they were upon him with their wonton wiles before Ichirou could even draw his sword an inch.

That day, Ichirou learned a very healthy respect for Shinto deities, and lost a good amount of his Uchiha pride in the process.

It may or may not have been the only thing he lost…

* * *

 **So, there have been some MAJOR revisions and changes to this story in case you can't tell!**

 **To those confused, consider the previous chapter a 'pilot' to this one. Like a chapter 'zero.' (On that note, has anyone read the original pilot to Naruto? It's pretty cool xD)**

 **Major change num** **ber one! THIS IS NO LONGER A REINCARNATION FIC. With Dreaming of Sunshine, reincarnation was a revolutionary idea for the fandom,** **but at this point, it just seems overdone. And for this fic? It turns out its unnecessary.** **The rest are mostly minor changes, and a lot of extra world** **building stuff** **added in** **between, with a name change here or there. (Ichijo is now Ichirou** **because Ichijo sounds too girly).**

 **I hope no one is too disappointed, and that you'll continue to read as I keep chiseling away inexpertly at this WIP. For those eager for cannon characters to show up, _they will!_ Soon! In just a couple of chapters. Until then, I hope my OCs are interesting enough to tide you over. **

**For those curious a** **bout cannon tie in, Shikyo is a (very) distant ancestor of Ki** **ba's, and** **I'll let you know now that Ichirou is actually the younger cousin of Madara and Izuna. He has lots of younger** **brothers and one estranged older sister whom he feels very responsi** **ble for. More on that in the coming chapters.**

 **Stay tuned, and thanks for reading!**

 **—TSOHG A MA I**


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